


I Like You

by Sunshade



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshade/pseuds/Sunshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance Hunter and Sunil Bakshi, car scene in the slums, sexual roleplay.</p><p>Spoilers for Season 2, Episode 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like You

Hunter looked around at the slums that surrounded them, tinted pale orange by the setting sun, as he faked disinterest in Bakshi's phone call. An empty, old train that was no more than a glorified sardine can with wheels passed by in front of them. Bakshi arranged a meeting with whatever Hydra big-shot whose shoes he'd be begging to lick at the end of the day. A farewell and a beep of his phone and it was over. Unfortunately for Bakshi, Hunter ably recalled the lines he had memorised to play his part in this little game. 

"Don't take that gun from your belt," Hunter warned him, his own gun pointed at the Bakshi's head. "This will be painless."

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa!" Bakshi froze when he turned around, still holding the phone in his hand. "What the hell?!"

"Sorry. I like you," Hunter alleged and gave him his best good-cop look. "But once you made contact, my orders were to take you out."

"Why?"

"My employers don't want you, Whitehall, or your phone-a-friend to get in their way," Hunter took a step forwards, Bakshi's eyes following the dangerous sway of his gun. "Sorry about this."

"W-w-Wait, p-please," Bakshi begged. "I'll triple whatever you're being paid."

"Mm, I'm getting paid by a bunch of people. That'll start to add up."

"They're moving against us," Bakshi thought out loud, in seeming realisation.

"They want you out of the picture," Hunter gladly confirmed for him. "If it's not me, it'll be someone else."

"Please. Money is not a question," Bakshi begged, the phone trembling along with his hands. "If you can protect me and see me safely to Bloom, not only will you be financially set for life," he bumbled, "But you will also solidify your standing with the true heads of Hydra."

Hunter gave him the most sceptical look he could manage. The fear in the other man's eyes made him almost feel like the best goddamn actor on Earth. Yet, according to Coulson, Bakshi was no less than a Hydra snake and that he could easily challenge him for the crown.

"The money will be there!" Bakshi reassured him in vain, a sweat forming on his forehead. "I swear it!"

Hunter drew his gaze towards the distance, faking deep contemplation over his options and life purpose. Bakshi kept stammering and tripping over his words, so Hunter couldn't help but almost take him for a genuine doormat. Still, he was Hydra and Hunter trusted an expert like Colson to know his sort well. This was a game. All of it an illusion.

"I-if not, I'll suck your cock and pull the trigger myself."

Hunter turned to look at him, thinking for a moment that he'd misheard him. But Bakshi was giving him a seemingly honest and desperate look, bearing a twitching salesman's smile at the end of his rope, if said salesman was a captured rat begging its predator for mercy. The longer Hunter held his gaze, the more Bakshi seemed to border a panic attack. Was this a ploy? Was Bakshi testing him? 

"You'd suck my cock," Hunter robotically repeated, looking as unimpressed as he could in order to maintain his detached, mercenary act he'd so groomed as he probed at the indecent proposal. "And pull the trigger yourself."

"Let me prove it to you," Bakshi held eye contact with a desperate but mortifyingly serious expression. "You said you 'liked' me so I'll suck your cock. Right now."

"Whoa, that's not what I meant, let's not-" Hunter's accent nearly slipped as he stopped Bakshi in his tracks. He couldn't for the love of god figure what was Bakshi's bloody angle here. "-get ahead of ourselves."

"You don't think I'm serious?" Bakshi's voice shook with his body. He brought himself down to his knees, prostrating himself with his trembling into a beggar's pose. Hunter's eyes nearly rolled out of his head. Coulson did say Bakshi had a flair for the dramatics. "I'm yours. I'm on my knees. I'm begging you, so believe me, I will."

Hunter inhaled the polluted air of the slums, his gun still pointed at Bakshi's head. What was Bakshi playing at? Hunter had been at this long enough to know of sick fuckers that considered every torture method available but what was the point of Bakshi willingly propose his own humiliation? Had Bakshi realised that Hunter was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent? And now mockingly tested his ethical boundaries? What the fuck was he supposed to do now? 

"Get in," Hunter found himself say after lowering his gun. Bakshi gave him a look as if his captor had risen up to godhood before his eyes before he followed Hunter's nstructions. Hunter watched him get back to the car and shook his head to himself. He'd just have to find a way to deal with the bloody screwball on the way. After Hunter joined Bakshi in the car, both looked ahead towards the peaceful train tracks and abandoned factories in an awkward silence. Good enough for Hunter to drop it and forget all about that embarrassing display Bakshi's. When he moved to start up the engine, Bakshi broke the silence:

"I just need a moment."

"Sorry?"

"You're right. Of course," Bakshi said, almost apologetically. "I'm in no position to make demands."

Bakshi shifted in his seat and leaned closer to Hunter. Hunter's natural instinct was to draw his gun and point it up the cheeky bastard's jaw but this idea was put on halt as Bakshi headed down towards his crotch. Hunter jumped in his seat: "Whoa-! Hold on-," with that, Bakshi stopped and looked up at him, seemingly bewildered by Hunter's panicky reaction. Hunter berated himself. His role should have been clear-cut in this little game to play Bakshi, whether it was all a game to Bakshi or not, but now it was going too far. What with the other man apparently mistaking his instructions from before and now seriously intending to blow him one, backing away now from this, even if he hadn't planned any of it at all, would only come across as weak-minded. Weakness that could potentially provide Bakshi with confidence to exploit him. Shit. Mind games were the She-Devil's way, not his.

"Give me your gun," Hunter demanded, adding in just a bit of scorn in his tone for the man to veil the overwhelming frustration he felt. He didn't know how Bakshi managed to put them both in this awkward situation but surely Hunter could still turn this around. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"B-but I should have something to defend myself if-"

"Sure, but no gun, no cock," Hunter replied. Whether it was his character or the insanity of the situation that made him forget big words, Bakshi would have to be a bloody idiot to give to Hunter's demands now. "Got it?"

Bakshi eyed him seriously, seemingly considering his options. A sliver of hope slipped through Hunter's cool façade when Bakshi moved away, only to be broken, pissed and shat on his face when Bakshi meekly offered Hunter his gun as if a tribute to a king, a show of humility and defeat across the expression on his face. "I understand," Bakshi muttered.

"Good," Hunter said. No, not good. For fuck's sake. Hunter took the gun, having half a mind to throw it out the window and forget about the whole plan. He tucked it away in the car door's compartment for now. Withholding a sigh, he thought of what he'd do next. So he spread his legs open as much as the room in the car allowed him, looking at Bakshi and daring him in mocking silence, hoping that display would slap up some sense into him not to go through it. Bakshi breathed in and gently laid his hand on Hunter's crotch. His fingers massaged Hunter's sex upwards and downwards in a circular motion through the fabric, the pressure soft, almost shy. Oh bother. Hunter tried to looked away, maintaining a cool demeanour befittingly of a noir movie's lead to make up for his heartbeat going into frenzy. He looked at Bakshi with one last hope, his mercenary character's tone dripping with poison as he addressed him: "What, having seconds thoughts?"

"No, no," Bakshi replied, protesting his innocence and grabbing a handful of the shape swelling in Hunter's pants. Hunter's head lolled back in frustration and hit the seat. As Bakshi exhaled air, his lips quivered. "I'll do better now. Sir."

"Yeah?" Hunter replied with a scoff, faking casual interest in the way he'd been so formally addressed. "That's what you say to your boss, to Whitehall?"

Hunter would've cracked up from the apparent embarrassment showing on Bakshi's face, if the man hadn't gone down and opened up his zipper on him. A contained, half-hard shape bounced up, held back by the white fabric of his underwear. So much for doubting a man would get him off sober after college. He didn't dare think what Bobbi would say about this. Where the fuck was she? She was supposed to follow them all the way to Hydra and keep an eye out for trouble.

The black shape of Bakshi's dishevelled hair went past and down on Hunter's field of view. Oh god. Bakshi was nibbling on his dick. His moist breath damping the fabric on Hunter's skin sent his brain fluids in overdrive, arousing him whole, the air feeling suddenly tight in his lungs. Bakshi's nose poked between his balls and Hunter swore the bastard had breathed his scent in. Was Bakshi actually enjoying himself? Whether that had been true or not, Hunter grabbed a handful of the man's hair and pushed him harder on his crotch, eyes off him to think. That muffled any of the bastard's subsequent indignant protests too which Hunter doubted were genuine anyway. Coulson had advised Hunter to be careful and not let Bakshi pull a fast one on him, lest he'd suspect something was afoot and find ways to outwit the situation. But nothing in S.H.I.E.L.D's mission meeting even remotely proposed the possibility that Bakshi might go down on him. Freed now, Bakshi panted heavily over his underwear, though Hunter still held him by his black hair. Fact was, Bakshi needed to buy his act of a trigger-happy mercenary only in this for himself. That was part of the plan and Hunter was a bloody professional, when he wanted to be. So he looked down on Bakshi munching hungrily on the side of his clothed erection and saw the situation for what it was: Bakshi was only a means to an end. He'd ignore the pleasure: his cock was just a tool. Yeah, he could do this zen shit. But Hunter would show the bastard he was having a grand ol' time. That whatever Bakshi suspected Hunter may be, he'd just as well use the bastard for money and pleasure as he would blow up Bakshi's brains on the spot. Whatever Bakshi planned, Hunter would one it up.

"You've got an eager mouth on you, Bakshi," his tone cold and mocking, drawing a seemingly shocked expression from Bakshi , even if the man had to know just as much as Hunter that he'd only quoted some random porn's lines. "Whitehall must've put you to work."

"That's not at all true-"

"Yeah, suck it," Hunter interrupted Bakshi's protest, pulling his own underwear down and pushing Bakshi down on him, his cock hitting him indelicately on the cheek. Bakshi had put them both in this awkward situation so he shouldn't think now that he had a right to speech. He'd not gain the upper-hand for even a second. "Put it all into your whore mouth."

"Please, I-"

Hunter rolled his eyes at Bakshi's innocent act and impatiently tightened his grasp on his black hair, drawing a yelp of pain from the man. He pushed his erection between Bakshi's lips, the resistance almost too brief. Hunter couldn't tell whether if Bakshi was actually enjoying his little hostage act or if he was playing for time for whatever reason. But the team was relying on Hunter, so he needed to keep Bakshi on the job and get him off today. The sooner he was done, the sooner Bakshi got them to Hydra and the next stage of Coulson's plan could begin. With that in mind, he didn't think of Bakshi's hot mouth accommodating his flesh, the sloppy string of saliva running down his shaft. He locked his body's pleasure away somewhere within the bounds of his mind, throwing the key away. He watched Bakshi huffing with half his cock lodged inside his mouth and felt but a tinge of curiosity. He needed only that much if he were to sell his character just so that Bakshi couldn't tell if inflicted humiliation was because Hunter was onto him or if he was just a brute mercenary. Bloody hell, Bobbi really had rubbed off on him. Then again, they'd been married before and he participated in all of her kinks. He always failed in that she eventually drove him crazy, in all the right and wrong ways. But Bakshi was different. Hunter felt nothing for the cocksucker going down on him now with vigour apt for championships.

Hunter needed to turn the situation's dynamics around though so he pushed Bakshi against the leathery wheel. The man drew his eyebrows over his eyes in discomfort. Bohoo, Hunter thought to himself, and with Bakshi's head set tight into place, Hunter begun thrusting inside the man's mouth. Bakshi barely faked resistance, his lips making indecent slurping noises on Hunter's cock, his tongue outstretched to welcome his plunging meat inside.

"Yeah, that's good," Hunter insincerely commented for emphasis. His strapped uniform gear was actually a goddamn painful weight on his back in this position as he rammed himself inside Bakshi's mouth but the point was to play-up the insensitive asshole card. Bakshi was eagerly taking him now afterall, however the mess he made drooling in the process, so the sooner Hunter managed to get off like this, the sooner they'd be done with the nasty business. 

A desperate fit of coughs from Bakshi though and Hunter had triggered his gag reflex. He immediately pulled Bakshi by his hair and off his cock, pushing him back to his seat, fearing Bakshi would vomit on his person. The man fell back almost like a ragdoll, catching his breath. In quick retrospect, Hunter wondered if that may have also been act. But who enjoys feeling like shit during sex? Apparently, Bakshi might. Hunter kept that disturbing thought in mind, if it'd help them get back on track. God, he hopped Bobbi wasn't watching. And if she was, she better realise what a goddamn dedicated professional he turned out to be, going as far as pretending to sell his soul to the devil.

"I'm alright," Bakshi assured him between heaves and teary, red eyes. The man already begun repositioning himself over Hunter's erection however. Bakshi's breath was hotter and moist from nearly heaving. Hunter summoned the tinge of repulsion he'd actually felt, boosting the effect with a cold glare befitting of his character at Bakshi. The man's expression looking at him said it all. Bakshi was either the best actor of all time or Hunter had been right in that Bakshi got off to this poison. His begging and focus on Hunter's gun earlier took a whole other meaning now. Hunter briefly wondered if Bakshi had already come this fucked-up into the world or whether Whitehall had groomed him so, just like with his brainwashed soldiers. Then he focused on the job, lest pity for a Hydra bitch would sidetrack him.

Bashki was going up and down on the whole length of his cock now, seemingly eager to please him after failing him before. Hunter could feel his own skin grow hot, the goosebumps on his arms spreading. He'd locked away whatever feelings could distract him from keeping Bakshi in his place but the pleasure was becoming unbearable now, no longer a tool just for the show. He closed and opened his eyes, his vision blurrier and his ears becoming gradually deaf to the city sounds outside and to the slurping sounds in the car by Bakshi's lips smacking together up his cock's head. Hunter tried to withheld his moans, only allowing through what his character may have but sometimes the lines blurred. Bakshi was a desperate cock-hungry mess and a bigger a slut Hunter had probably never met before. He could swear he'd seen a shadow of a smug smile on Bakshi's face when Hunter felt particularly lacking in poise as Bakshi's hand grabbed him by balls.

"That's right, suck it," Hunter tried to compensate, upping his game of blatant cheesy porn talk. Surely Bashki at least suspected that even if he was S.H.I.E.L.D, he was onto him by now. Or not. Whatever lied under the surface Bashki's was probably nothing shorter of a goddamn pandora's box. "Fuckin' cunt," Hunter continued, barely remaining loyal to his fake accent. "Oh shit, oh shit-"

Hunter pushed Bashki down on his cock, bending himself over him and trapping his head into place. He emptied his first rows of semen inside his hot mouth. Bashki reflexively coughed and semen dripped from the corner of his lips, down his chin and onto Hunter's black uniform. Hunter had buried his head on the car's wheel, hiding the expression of overwhelming pleasure on his face, failing in keeping his cool persona and mightily getting off to all this kinky shit, so more conflictingly exhilarating than anything he'd ever gotten on with somebody in years. Still cumming, he leaned back on his seat, pushed Bashki's off him and against the wheel, releasing strings of his semen over the man's abused face and mouth. Bashki was a mess at the end of it, used up in no more gallantly a manner than Hunter would have a pocket pussy, no, a jerk-off sock, and Bashki must've known it. His undignified expression with tongue out and misty eyes was the twisted man's flavour of bliss, Hunter's pale seed running down his tan skin and gaunt cheeks. Credits likely to big-man Whitehall.

Hunter relaxed and caught his breath, letting Bashki to his endeavours of licking all cum off the side of his softening cock. His tongue went as far as to swipe off the remains staining Hunter's pants and underwear. The veins on Hunter's temples were still pulsing when he dismissed Bashki off his crotch, impatiently nudging him with the back of his hand back to the passenger's seat. He pulled his own zipper up, turned the keys and started up the car, the engine reverberating to life. Hunter looked sideways to Bashki, who was still dazedly licking cum off his thumb, and asked him nonchalantly:

"So? Where to?"


End file.
